Let Me Hold Both Your Hands (In The Holes of my Sweater)
by dorothyyy
Summary: Shion is cold.


**Let Me Hold Both Your Hands (In The Holes of my Sweater)**

❆ A Nezushi Oneshot ❆

_AN: (This is a painfully short songfic, I know the title is really long but hey whatever. It's based off of the song Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood.)_

_((Also this is really random and I know it might be a little confusing, but I don't know where this takes place in their timeline. I mean, Safu is still alive obviously but I mention things from later in the series and earlier in the series. Please bear with me I just wanted to write some mindless fluff.))_

"Nezumi."

Shion and Nezumi stood at the bus stop, waiting to go back to No. 6, so Shion could visit Safu. Despite the fact that Nezumi just wanted to stay home and read a book, Shion had uncharacteristically insisted that it has been too long since they had gone to No. 6 to visit her.

It was dark now though, and it was snowing, puffy white flakes dotting the ground and landing on the two boys. The white stood out in stark contrast against Nezumi's midnight hair. He absentmindedly brushed a strand out of his face, ignoring the other boy.

"Nezumi!"

Nezumi sighed, looking down at his nails and silently cursing at himself for missing the bus. They would have to wait at least another twenty minutes before the bus would come to pick them up.

"Hey, Nezumi!"

Huffing out a visible breath in the cold, Nezumi finally turned to face the other boy in preparation for another stupid question.

"What?"

It was only then that he realized the way Shion had his arms wrapped around himself, teeth chattering and deep red eyes looking up at Nezumi desperately.

"I'm _cold_," he said in between chatters.

Nezumi threw up his arms exasperatedly. This kid was so ridiculous, refusing to wear a coat, only going out in that little turquoise sweater. Nezumi had told him how cold it was going to be outside, but Shion had then asked why Nezumi himself wasn't wearing a coat, to which Nezumi had replied that he didn't get cold. And, being the naïve boy that he was, Shion had replied that he would also not wear a coat, smiling with the joy of a boy who truly believed that he would never feel pain or hurt or _cold_.

Nezumi knew Shion's views on life like the back of his hand. He knew that if there were two paths, he wouldn't just tough it out and choose one or the other, he would always try to find a middle path. He knew how Shion had questions about virtually everything, usually ones that he bothered Nezumi about. And he knew that if Shion did not wear a coat, there may not even be a clear reason, probably just because he felt the need to copy Nezumi. Which was pretty annoying. Nezumi turned back to face the street.

"What do you want me to do about it?"

Shion said nothing to that, just shifted a bit closer. Nezumi could see the other boy in his peripheral vision, shifting closer and closer to him until their shoulders were bumping. Shion slipped a hand just under Nezumi's black pullover.

Nezumi pulled away.

"No way, this is my body heat. Get your own."

"Come on, Nezumi! I'm freezing."

"Leave. Me. Alone," Nezumi huffed and turned away again, his breath sending out little white clouds, floating and disappearing into the night air.

But if Shion was one thing, it was persistent. He rested his head on Nezumi's shoulder, not forcing him to turn around, but just resting there on his tiptoes, the height difference allowing his chin to rest comfortably on the curve of Nezumi's shoulder blade.

"Shion."

"I'm cold," Shion breathed quietly against the tiny but sensitive part of Nezumi's neck that was exposed by his sweater pulling down. Nezumi made a noise of indignation, but finally turned around to face the light haired boy.

"Fine. But no funny business."

Shion made a happy sound and wrapped his arms around Nezumi's waist, warm and unhesitating. Nuzzling his nose into Nezumi's shoulder, he closed his eyes, slipping his hands under Nezumi's shirt for extra warmth. Shion's hands were freezing against the scar on Nezumi's back, seeing as he had forgotten to bring mittens as well, and Nezumi involuntarily arched away from the touch, pulling closer to the other boy.

"Don't do that."

"Sorry," Shion said, but Nezumi could feel him smiling against his neck.

Shion lazily splayed his fingers out across the taller boy's back, relishing in the way the muscles were responding to his touch.

Nezumi pulled away so he could look Shion in the eye, dark eyes twinkling amongst the white flakes.

"Wear a coat next time."

"But you feel so nice."

Nezumi could not hold back the groan of annoyance at the other boy's unresponsiveness. But there was also something under his expression, a hidden affection that was displayed by his gloved hand reaching up and brushing Shion's pale bangs out of his face. And Shion was watching his hand, gaze never leaving it until it was still. Shion tried to smile, to lighten up the serious expression on Nezumi's face, but Nezumi was not in the mood for smiling. He stared back, raising his eyebrows, fingers continuing down to trace the pink mark on Shion's cheek with a feather light touch that had Shion's eyelids fluttering closed at the sensitivity of his scar.

Nezumi just stayed like that for a while, fingers gliding across Shion's scar, a reminder of what they were fighting for. Or against, depending on who you asked. And Shion just leaned into his touch, ever so slightly, warmth seeping into him from Nezumi's hand.

Shion opened his eyes just enough so he could watch Nezumi's face. And all of a sudden, it was as if this wasn't enough. Nezumi had to know how Shion feels about him, how could he not? But how did Nezumi feel about him? Shion was tired of depending on Nezumi's fleeting moods to tell him whether he was allowed to reach out and touch. But he could not think of the words to express this, these strong feelings that he felt about the boy that was in front of him, who he had known since he was only twelve. The boy who was still watching his expression, tracing the contours of his face with his gaze and the light touch of his fingers.

So Shion did the one thing that he knew would catch Nezumi off guard.

He leaned in, pushing Nezumi's hand away, and brought their mouths together, just a light brushing of lips. The kiss was soft and fleeting, questioning.

_Do you feel the same way?_

Nezumi was not resisting, for his cold mood was slowly being melted away in the soft brush of Shion's lips and silky white hair carding through his fingers.

And then Shion pulled away from the kiss, his expression asking everything that he could never say out loud. Nezumi just gave a serious, almost imperceptible nod, tugging on the collar of Shion's shirt and reconnecting their lips, firm and self-assured, the answer to a question never asked. His tongue brushed the roof of Shion's mouth slightly, just enough to elicit a contented sigh from him. Nezumi smirked against the other boy's lips, hand placed firmly on the back of his neck. And needless to say, Shion did not feel so cold anymore.

Nezumi disconnected their lips just long enough to breathe, "You still need to wear a coat next time."

Shion grinned, relishing in the way the snowflakes were landing on Nezumi's face in little patterns. He stood up on his tiptoes and kissed them away, making Nezumi squeeze his eyes shut at the warm shock of Shion's lips.

"Let's dance," Shion whispered against his cheek, and Nezumi finally smiled, tucking Shion's hair behind his ear.

"You remember what I taught you?"

Shion nodded enthusiastically, and Nezumi slid his hand around the other boy's waist, holding his hand firmly. Shion squeezed Nezumi's hand, and Nezumi began to guide him into a two-step dance, his eyes never leaving the other boy's face. They twirled and skipped and, after a while, it was not even like they were dancing at a bus stop anymore. They were alone, and all that they could see was each other, Nezumi smiling fondly at Shion, at the way he just barely followed the dance rhythm, at his stupidity and at his cleverness alike.

And Shion looking up at Nezumi, Rat, his closest friend. Nezumi, who he would fight for, fire a gun for... Do things that he never even dreamed he would be doing. Shion could barely remember who he was five years ago, that scared, conformist little boy, who had no idea that there was anything outside the walls of No. 6. And yet here he was, dancing in the snow with another boy that he cares so much about.

And slowly they stopped dancing, slowing down and coming to a full stop with a final twirl. They were both tired and sweaty now, and Shion was grinning.

"How was that?" he asked breathlessly, "Have I gotten better?"

Nezumi raised his eyebrows and smiled with half his mouth.

"You've still got some work to do."

Shion just scrunched up his nose and buried his face in Nezumi's shoulder. They stayed like that for a minute, until Nezumi was shaking him off again.

"Hey!" Shion protested, hurt.

Why was he doing this? Shion was so confused, why was it that every time he let himself get close to Nezumi, he would just be pushed away again. It hurt, and he wouldn't stand for it. Either Nezumi should let Shion know how much he cares about him or-

"The bus is here," Nezumi said.

Shion turned around and realized that the bus _had_ finally arrived, the headlights casting an orange glow across the fresh-fallen snow.

He felt warm, gloved fingers curl around his hand, looking up at Nezumi.

"Come on, do you want to miss it?" Nezumi frowned.

"I love you," Shion said suddenly, looking up at Nezumi and realizing that he really did mean it.

Nezumi raised his eyebrows.

"I love you too, idiot," he said factually, "Come on."

And he tugged on Shion's hand, pulling him through the doors of the awaiting bus, soggy and wet from the snow, but not cold.

**They were not cold at all.**


End file.
